Finding Perspective
by shortstoriessherlock
Summary: Sherlock is out walking the streets of London and finds Molly waking home on her own. Bored beyond all reason, he follows her. But little does he expect how complicated the night will become... A more sensible Molly portrayed. No SherLolly just friendship. No JohnLock either. Could be both if you choose to see it that way.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This is my first fanfiction story and I'm looking forward to writing it!

I've got another account but this one is going to be solely for Sherlock one shots or short stories. I think this will be more convenient for me, because I've got a big exam year coming up and all extra time is spent revising; I have trouble committing to very long stories because of how busy my weeks are so hopefully I'll be able to upload all my stories without having to worry too much about not finishing them.

If you're interested I have a tumblr account and the name is BelieveInSherlockHolmes and the blog name is lovelifelovesherlock; hope some of you might be able to take a look!

Anyway enough of my chatter! On with the first one-shot...

"Where are you going?"

Sherlock didn't look back at John as he put on his scarf, his long coat rippling as he walked through the flat.

"Out." He replied shortly. John only briefly looked up from his laptop. "Can I ask where?" He inquired. "It is quite late." He asked this with only with a minor amount of curiosity; he was now so used to his friends frequent disappearances he barely found the energy to inquire after him.

Sherlock now glanced back. "You can ask," he answered in a deadpan. "But I doubt I will answer you now." John was a little surprised. "Meaning what? That you'll tell me later?"

The corner of Sherlock's mouth lifted a fraction. "Perhaps." John huffed slightly in amusement. "Bye Sherlock. And for gods sake, don't do anything you shouldn't!"

Sherlock didn't answer, which only left John to feel slightly disconcerted.

••••••

Walking was an incredibly infuriating task in areas full of London's masses, Sherlock realised with disdain. It made getting around incredibly difficult.

Sherlock was bored. Bored beyond reason and he was about ready to do ANYTHING to alleviate the symptoms. He needed to find something to occupy himself. Maybe he'd find someone interesting to deduce; someone difficult. Or maybe Moriarty would leave him another trail of some kind for him to follow now that he was without John. That would be incredibly considerate of him. He'd been waiting at least a day since the old woman had been-

Sherlock immediately stopped his train of thought.

But then a familiar person caught his eyes ahead of him and he almost stopped in surprise; he only just managed to catch himself.

Molly?

Interest piqued, and boredom being the main motivator, he quickly followed the pathologist as she made her way through the busy streets of central London. He now noticed that actually, they weren't that far from Barts. She must have just gotten off work. But she was taking the slightly more dangerous routes out of the hustle and bustle of the main streets; trying to avoid as many chances of causing a fuss as possible probably knowing her character. Molly was more than likely to run into someone and cause a riot; it was much safer to walk the quieter backstreets.

Struggling to contain his snort of amusement, he continued to silently follow her.

Molly remained perfectly oblivious to the fact that she had managed to gain a follower. But both she and Sherlock remained unaware that she had attained more than one.

•••••••••

Molly had had a quiet day at the lab really. A few body's to look over but nothing too laborious. Practically boring compared to the days of excitement she had when Sherlock came into the lab with Lestrade or John.

Molly realised now that whilst she cared deeply for Sherlock, the admiration and awe she often felt for him now when he entered the room was purely for his abilities and the work that he did. She was over him really, Jim had helped her with that.

She actually found, which would probably horrify other people of his acquaintance, that she enjoyed his company. He had a dry sense of humour that she found funny as well as his blunt attitude to other people who were unkind; it was something she wished she had the ability to do. But nonetheless, the ways in which she acted towards him now were more to gain his attention in a friendly manner rather than to attract him.

Sherlock, she knew, thought her quite silly as she used to act so quite a lot when he was in her presence; she used to often be reduced to a blushing stuttering wreck. But weren't most people in the presence of their crush?

Because really, Molly wanted to be his friend. She could see that he was quite lonely; he didn't acknowledge it, and she doubted he ever would, but more than anything she wanted him to let her in. John would always be his first real friend in the mad world that he lives in and she knew that nothing she ever did would change that. She didn't really want to. But that didn't mean he had to be the last-

Molly's train of thought was lost when a hand closed over her mouth and pulled her into the dark alley to the side of her.

Taken off guard, she was delayed in screaming against the hand and brought her hands up to defend herself; but she could barely move her arms because of the tight grip her captor held her in.

Molly grunted as she was pushed against the wall of the alley, feeling her lip split as she bit into it and bashed it against the rough brick of the building. Her bag was still swinging on her captive arm and the man now rummaged through it, probably hoping to find something of value.

Molly felt her temper flare.

To defend herself, she jerked back her foot to dig into, who she now recognised as, the mans kneecap. He hissed in pain and relinquished his grip on her slightly. She took the opportunity to struggle out of his grip and elbowed him in the face.

Thinking that she had found an escape, Molly ran towards the light of the slightly more open road area outside of the alley but swore when he grabbed onto her arm again. She was spun around to face him and she pushed against him with as much power as she could muster.

She fell silent as he swiftly brought up his fist to deal a blow to her face.

Stunned and thrown of balance by the force, she fell onto her side on the concrete behind her, arm stretching out and scraping painfully on something sharp. Numbed my adrenaline and the stabbing pain in her cheek, Molly barely felt the glass cut into her arm.

She heard deafening footsteps from behind her and barely had time to look up when the man who assaulted her cried out in pain and staggered into the group of bins behind him and laying still.

Molly looked blearily up to see a hand being offered to her; the punch he had thrown at her was making her right eye swell up. She couldn't properly see who it was, but took the hand without any hesitation. She breathed heavily as she collapsed against the wall for support and let the adrenaline leave her system. Panting as the pain now came back to her tenfold, she held a trembling hand to her eye and groaned slightly.

"Are you all right?" The person asked in concern. Molly pulled the hand away from her eye and wiped it across her lip, cringing as she saw that the blood that was dripping onto her T-shirt and flinched at the pain that shot through her.

"Yes," she spoke quietly, sounding a little strained but quite calm. "I'm fine; thank you for that I would have been-" She paused suddenly and her head snapped up to the figure. "Sherlock?!"

•••••••••

Sherlock was angry. Beyond angry that this man had deemed it acceptable to attack someone who had nothing to defend themselves with; a coward!

It went beyond what rise a person could usually get out of him, but nobody attacked a friend of his without facing dire consequences. His reaction to Johns kidnap executed by the Chinese smugglers had felt natural to him. It made him realise that maybe he was not so immune from feeling after all.

Molly took hold of Sherlock's outstretched hand, which she took some time in realising was there, and near enough fell against the closest wall for support as she shook slightly.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked, not able to keep the concern out of his tone. Molly nodded and stood up a little straighter, gently wiping the blood that was coming from her lips. He doubted she realised it, but her face was also grazed from her collision with the brick wall. She hissed as she touched the cut and carefully probed her swelling cheek with her hand still trembling.

"Yes," she spoke quietly but her pain was obvious to Sherlock. "I'm fine; thank you for that I would have been-" She paused abruptly and her head snapped up to face him, as if seeing him properly for the first time. Sherlock seriously doubted that she could see clearly but recognition shine in her fully open eye. "Sherlock?!"

Sherlock's expression didn't change. "Molly." She looked slightly flustered. "H-How-?"

"I saw you walking back from work," he told her bluntly. "I was bored so I followed you. It's a good thing that I did." Molly looked for a moment slightly perturbed but then she smiled softly. "Yes, if you hadn't been there..." She shuddered. "But I'm okay now; I can't thank you enough. I'm going to get home now and get some sleep-"

Sherlock felt incredulous and he made sure it showed. A little bit. "Do you think I'm going to let you do that?" He asked in a serious tone. "You've been mugged Molly. You're in shock, have a painful bruise developing around your eye, your cheek is bleeding from where you scraped against the wall and I doubt you've even realised that you've got glass stuck in your arm."

Molly looked indignant. "I have noticed! And it bloody hurts!" Sherlock gave her a piercing look. "Then you should be thinking clearly enough to realise that you need to get these injuries looked at. Don't be stupid Molly."

Molly looked like she was simmering slightly at that last comment but refrained from acting out of anger. She nodded and, taking a deep breath, bent down to hurriedly pick up things that had dropped out of her bag.

When she stood up straight again, she gave Sherlock a look of pure frustration that surprised him. She held out her arms. "Where are we going now Dr Holmes?" She asked sarcastically. Sherlock's expression stayed calm. "To see a real doctor. You're coming back to Baker Street with me. If you have any objections, you can find your own way home and pay for your own taxi. Sherlock turned around and walked towards the end of the alley and satisfied himself when he heard Molly follow behind him.

•••••••

Insufferable, insufferable man! Molly raged privately in the silence of the taxi drive home. How dare he assume that she couldn't look after herself!

"Well clearly that view is not an unfounded one as you were mugged earlier," Sherlock commented without turning to look at her. Molly felt her cheeks heat up slightly as she realised she must have spoken that last part out loud.

"I was dealing perfectly well with the situation thank you Sherlock," she spoke through gritted teeth. Sherlock let out a derisive snort. "Of course; that was why you were lying immobile on the floor with glass in your arm and a punch to the face."

Molly bit back her retort, and an uncomfortable silence settled in the back of the cab. She knew that she was actually very grateful that Sherlock had helped her; she would have been in a great deal of trouble had he not been as quick as he was. She was just tired, irritable and still in a deal of shock that made her anxious, defensive and a little sharp.

Sighing and turning ever so slightly in her friends direction, she spoke quietly. "Sherlock- I've been quite difficult tonight and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. Considering what you've done for me... I should have been more grateful and not so brattish. Because I am. Grateful, I mean," she amended quickly, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment when she saw Sherlock looking to her curiously and listening more attentively.

Quickly becoming flustered, Molly rambled on slightly without thinking about what she should say. "I'm very grateful-uh-thankful for your-um-consideration and help for...helping you- I mean helping me- with that bas-I mean man-you- I'm- GAH!"

Molly held a hand to her forehead, feeling like she was dying from embarrassment. "Thank you Sherlock!" She near enough shouted, alarming said man slightly and making him start in genuine surprise. She counted on her fingers. "Thank you for helping me not get mugged, thank you for following me home so you could help me and thank you for taking me back with you so I can see John. There, I've said it. Thank you."

She nodded subtly with an air of finality and crossed her arms over her chest, turning herself away to look out of the window, watching London's night life with calm composure as if she had said nothing at all. She could feel Sherlock's gaze burning into her neck and she realised that the way her heart thudded, and heat rose in her neck, proved that she wasn't quite as over Sherlock as she thought.

But it changed nothing about her contented was with Jim and her desire to be good friends with the consulting detective. None at all. Her feelings would numb eventually.

As they arrived at Baker Street, Molly waited for Sherlock to exit on his side of the car before following him. He quickly payed the cabbie before heading towards 221B. Moly thanked the driver and then smiled at Sherlock slightly as she walked through the door he was holding open for her. She realised that this was not something he did often.

Despite trying to fight herself, Molly couldn't suppress her feeling of anxiety about the situation. She had never been to Sherlock and John's flat before. It was a pointless and stupid thing to be concerned about considering the nights events, but it really felt quite a natural thing to be fretting about. Molly needed comfort. Fretting was something she did naturally; things were already returning to normal.

Sherlock cast a quick glance in her direction, with an emotion in his eyes that she couldn't decipher, before walking into the main sitting room.

Molly looked around the room with a soft smile on her face; it was designed quite plainly with mismatched furniture, yet it seemed very comfortable and cosy. Both Sherlock and Johns influences could be seen in the room.

She only had time to briefly glimpse the kitchen table cluttered with lab equipment, much to her amusement, before she heard John exclaim in concern.

"Molly! Dear god, what happened to you?" She turned and saw him walking towards her and looking her over with a professionally analytical eye, clearly trying to decipher whether she had any other visible injuries, when Sherlock interrupted in a deadpan. "I came across her being mugged in a back alley; as you can clearly see, she has sustained some injuries that need looking at."

John understood the silent appeal and nodded, without turning away from her. Molly smiled a little shyly as John sat her down on one of the kitchen chairs that he had pulled out, gently probing her bruised eye.

"The bruising will be gone in a few days," he explained with a reassuring smile. "But it's likely to hurt for a little while longer. The cheekbone's not broken, so there's nothing serious to worry about. For now, all we can do to help you is to put some ice on it to take down the swelling." Johns appraisals of her injuries were after that more succinct as nothing else seemed to be of major consequence. The scrape on her cheek was not particularly visible as it hasn't bled at all; it was more red and stinging than anything and her cut lip would heal just soon enough.

John's eyes narrowed as he came to her still bleeding arm and, as quickly as he dared, brought it up to look at it properly. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier Sherlock?" He demanded with slight frustration. "This is quite a serious injury; I shouldn't be the one looking at it, this should be looked at properly and cared for by the hospital!" Sherlock looked unaffected. "You're a doctor," he spoke carelessly, as if he were pointing out the obvious. "What's the difference between a hospital doctor and you? You both have the same qualifications to care for the injuries-"

John shook his head before turning back to Molly's arm and appraising it more carefully. "Yes but I don't have the right equipment to treat it properly; she'd have been in safer hands in a hospital." He now looked up at Molly for the first time and realised that she looked quite worried. "Is it that serious?" She asked apprehensively, looking at him imploringly. John looked a little sheepish.

"Uh- no, not particularly. But it would have been better to have this done professionally." Molly smiled slightly. "But you are a professional." John couldn't hide his smile at that comment. "True enough," he spoke softly. "It's easy to forget sometimes..." He frowned suddenly. "I think this is going to need some stitching after the glass has been taken out. It's going to need some help with healing."

Molly, feeling unaffected by this, nodded. "Have you got anything to numb it slightly?" John looked doubtful and turned to Sherlock awkwardly. Before he could even open his mouth, Sherlock gave him a reproachful look and said snappily. "I'm clean. No morphine in the flat."

John turned back to Molly with a grim expression. "Nothing," he spoke slowly. "Would you rather you went to-" Molly shook her head. "No, it's fine," she spoke without a tremor in her tone that would suggest any worry. "I'll be fine. Just do it quickly, I'm feeling a little lightheaded. I'd rather not pass out."

John looked both doubtful and reluctant but nodded and left to find a needle and a packet that held an emergency surgery thread. Sherlock came back with multiple injuries and sometimes these were necessary.

Molly looked to Sherlock when she saw him looking at her. "What?" She asked a little defensively after a moments silence. Sherlock looked away from her and walked over to the window of the flat, which she assumed overlooked the entrance and the flat across from them. He picked up his violin and brought the how across the strings, playing a chord that was satisfying to her ears. John soon came back and immediately set to work on taking out the largest pieces of glass.

As Sherlock continued to play, Molly felt herself becoming more and more relaxed and begin able to ignore the stinging pains in her arm. It was a beautiful piece, whatever it was, and she found herself enjoying it excessively. But she cried out suddenly in pain and flinched when John jerked whilst pulling out a piece of glass, swearing under his breath. It became apparent that her phone was ringing and had interrupted the quiet of the room.

"I'm so sorry Molly," he exclaimed in horror as she tried to fight back the agony ripping through her arm. Molly shook her head slowly, forcing a smile onto her face. "No don't be sorry it's my fault," she told him. "Can I just get this? I promise you it REALLY won't be a long conversation."

She smiled brightly at him and pulled out her smartphone out of her pocket, sighing when she saw the called, and placing it next to her ear. "Jim. You all right?"

'Yeah I'm fine Moll, what about you? Where are you?'

Molly sighed again. 'I'm fine don't worry I just ran into a bit of trouble of the way home. I'll be back later tonight, don't worry I'm with some friends."

'All right then honey, as long as you're okay I guess I'll see you later.'

"Yeah okay," She smiled contently. "I'll see you later. Bye."

'Bye.'

Hanging up was quick and the phone call barely lasted half a minute. "Sorry John, do continue." John waved off her apology and finally brought out his needle and thread.

"This is going to hurt," he warned, and she nodded. When he first stuck the needle into her arm she felt it sting; but after a few more goes, she could hardly feel it anymore. Molly had a reasonably large sized pain threshold so if she said it hurt, it REALLY bloody hurt.

Sherlock had stopped playing his violin. He was stood not far from John and watching his process with some small amount of fascination. Molly smiled playfully. "As long as you don't being this into the lab..." She warned with a smile. Sherlock looked up at her for a few seconds before his won face relaxed as he realised that she was only joking.

As John finished stitching he arm, he smiled brightly. "You'll need to come back in about a month or so to have them taken off, but if they break or you think you have problems don't hesitate to come back." John then added more informally. "If you want to come back and see us full stop, don't worry; it'd be nice to see you." Molly smiled and nodded. "Thanks John."

She stood up to leave and Sherlock stood with her. "I'll see you to the door," he told her shortly. A little surprised, though she didn't show it, Molly nodded silently and left with only a parting goodbye to the doctor.

Once at the door, Molly turned to Sherlock. "I guess I'll see you another time then Sherlock?" Sherlock nodded silently. "Yes. Have coffee ready." Molly couldn't help but burst into laughter at that and Sherlock watched her seriously. "I will don't worry," she chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Coffee will be perfect as always." Sherlock nodded approvingly. Molly took this as her cue to leave and opened the door to the street outside. "Thanks again." She spoke softly, leaning up and hesitating before kissing Sherlock gently on the cheek. Sherlock silently stood for a moment as Molly turned and walked down the steps of 221B Baker Street with happy thoughts and a closer relationship to all within.

She had just stepped onto the path when Sherlock called out. "You're welcome!" She turned back and smiled at him widely before continuing into the night and looking for a cab to take her home.

••••••••

Sherlock walked back upstairs in a sort of confused daze. Nobody had ever shown him a particularly affectionate gesture apart from his mother; nobody wanted to be that close to him. He was a freak to most and to everyone else a stranger.

But Molly was different. She'd been different from the start, and even more so tonight. He'd always used her crush on him to his advantage by complimenting her or invading her personal space. But that, he'd noticed, hadn't been affecting him as much in the last few times he'd been to the lab. And it had particularly shown when she'd been with that new boyfriend of hers... Quinn? Tim? Something like that. She'd actually been able to have a decent conversation with him without blithering like an idiot. She'd stood her ground when she denied her weight gain, which was false, and that was new.

He liked that she had changed her attitude towards him. It was... Different. She had been a good conversation partner tonight and had shown that she was, despite all he'd assumed about her, a strong person. She had known when to stop sulking and she had actually THANKED him. Nobody had done that for a very long time. At least sincerely.

New Molly was good. Maybe friendship wasn't impossible after all...

••••••••

Molly smiled as Jim welcomed her at the door. "There you are!" He spoke in a relieved tone, eyes narrowing in concern when he saw her immediately obvious injuries. "Are you sure you're okay?" She nodded. "Don't worry, I had them looked at properly by John; do you remember? I introduced you the other day."

Jim nodded in realisation. "Of course, the doctor. So how did you end up there anyway?"

Molly smiled and collapsed into the sofa, Jim on her other side, and curled into him. She explained quietly about the events of the night and Jim smiled. "Thank god Sherlock was there to save the day," he teased, making Molly blush slightly. She nodded. "I owe him big time now," she agreed. "I've got no idea about why he would have done that for me though if he thought nothing of me. Maybe he does think of me as a friend after all..." She fell silent soon after and turned on the TV.

She never saw Jim's face turn dark as he looked at her and smile dangerously.

••••••••

And that's my first one shot! I've got to admit I'm actually quite proud of this. It's not half bad!

I'm taking requests, so if you have any prompts or ideas for me, PM me or review me a request or idea and I'll write a story for it and based on it DEDICATED TO YOU! If you would like, you can also ask me a question on my tumblr account Which was mentioned in the first authors note.

Thank you all and I hope you enjoyed it!

Jess xx


	2. Chapter 2: Important Authors Note

**Hello all! Please read, it will only take a moment of your time! **

**I just wanted to let you know that I have another story up on my profile; it is not linked to this one in any way, but I thought that you may like to have a look at it. It's a Sherlock/OC and I would like to stress that if that is not your thing, ****it is not a romance story. ****If that is one of your well liked pairings, it could be seen as a preliminary romance story. I may eventually choose to make it longer. **

**It follows Sherlock and my original character as they both face the trials and tribulations of becoming friends and helping each other. The full summary is on the story link.**

**It will be more than one chapter, but I doubt it will be particularly long. I may choose to extend it, maybe make another story on it, but because of how busy I am going to be this year I seriously doubt it. **

**The first chapter is up. It would be most apprectiated if you could have a look and leave some constructive criticisms. Thanks for reading :) xx**

**- shortstoriessherlock xx**


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